Blood on the Asphalt biker
Dax whispered, turning in a slow circle.
I looked around. The interior of the Nullity ship didn't make sense. There were no walls, no corridors, no bulkheads. We were standing on a flat, black plane that stretched into infinity. Above us, instead of a ceiling, there were geometric shapes shifting and rotating cubes, pyramids, spheres all made of a material that wasn't black, but the absence of light. It was like looking into a deep cut in the fabric of the universe.
"It's not a ship," I realized, the hacker in me recoiling from the lack of data. "It’s a formatted drive. A blank slate. There’s no architecture because they don't need it. They don't live here; they just exist."
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